


Stardust

by MiraclesInApril



Series: Miscellaneous Miseries [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-08-16 14:01:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8105152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraclesInApril/pseuds/MiraclesInApril
Summary: their chests feel heaviest when they are hollow. (series of chanbaek angst drabbles)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is an open ended drabble. lowercase intended.

baekhyun stares discreetly. each breath is acid but he doesn’t mind. he wants his heart to corrode, he likes this burn. it’s better than the cold that encases his heart when he is crying alone, in his bed or at any other place where the memories hit. smiles. laughter. hugs. kisses. the kisses.

as he is lost in the aching reminiscent thoughts, he forgets himself and he forgets to look away when chanyeol looks up. chanyeol’s grin falls off his face and his eyes immediately harden. the look slices baekhyun’s heart and he ducks his head, submitting to chanyeol’s hateful gaze.

baekhyun can hear chanyeol laugh louder, he can hear the giant’s boisterous voice praising his girlfriend. his girlfriend. something baekhyun could never be, simply because he was born as he is and he can not help it, he cannot change his anatomy.

_"are you okay, baek? here, let me see it. silly boy.”_

_he had cut his finger on the knife as he sliced the tomatoes for their sandwhich and chanyeol had held his pinky finger, dabbing it with a cloth and taking care of the cut. he stood in front of baekhyun, the wooden shuttered window letting in beaming rays through the gaps and encasing the giant in a nimbus light. he seemed magical and to baekhyun, he was stardust trapped in blood and bones. and when he had tilted baekhyun’s face upwards and pressed the most delicate kiss on his lips, he was stardust exploding on baekhyun’s skin, tainting him with some of that magic._

 

and now the stardust has rot on his skin and it is ash, an umbra on his soul. 

the memories never leave him, they are playing in his head on a loop that is scratching his sanity away. he wants to forget because they are killing him. but even if he wipes chanyeol from his heart, he is still bound to die. how can one rip their heart out and still live? baekhyun does not think he will manage but maybe it is possible because chanyeol seems to be doing fine without him. or maybe he was never in chanyeol's heart to begin with, let alone be the reason he lived, the reason he took each breath.

where did he go wrong? where did they wrong? chanyeol no longer wants baekhyun and baekhyun is happy suffering for chanyeol’s content. but it is like sawing a piece of himself off each day and soon there will be nothing left of him. he does not understand this level of exhaustion, his whole existence is fatigued but he is so tired of this feeling. his soul feels so heavy. the stream of tears is unforgiving, wrestling with his self control and marking a narrow path down his cheeks. he ducks his head further, tucking his chin on his chest. burying his soul just a little more each day until it will eventually disappear.

 


	2. Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> his existence is as tangible as the wisps of smoke he breathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another depressed drabble. cheers.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Chanyeol was breathing but through lungs that had collapsed long ago. Even when a burning death stick did not poke out between his index and middle finger, his breathing was ragged and came out in broken gasps.

The night was dark but the smoky tendrils of nicotine, tar and carbon monoxide were clear in the air, white ash against an obsidian canvas. They rose in the air, seductive and feathery and he wished he could float away too, disintegrate into nothingness, leave an addicting pungent smell before even that was dispersed by the wind. But he was frail bones and contaminated blood, bound by gravity and oppressed by the air that gave him life.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

He could taste the nicotine on his tongue. He could feel the intoxicant kill his cells, one by one, but for some reason that perplexed him, he could not feel his heartbeat. He tried to count the beats in his head, one, two, three, as he dragged the air from the cigarette, but all he felt was numb. Numb, save for the wisp of hot air that traveled to his lungs and charred it noir like the unwavering night sky.

It was cold but then again he was numb and the only telltale sign was his frigid hands shaking slightly as he brought the cigarette to his blue lips again and again. It was quiet but the sound of wispy tendrils escaping his nose was a whispered caress to the night. It was a deserted night but he was kept company by his miserable loneliness and unforgiving conscious.

He was hopeless and hurt and the void inside his chest was filled with a sadness that seemed to churn him more than any cigarette would. Maybe he couldn’t feel his heart because he had been consumed by the melancholy. It was heavy and weightless, crushing him simultaneously.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

‘Ephemeral’ he thought. The night, the cigarette, the smoke, his life, everything. It was all ephemeral. He didn’t know if he should be grateful that his misery was ephemeral or beg to prolong this pathetic apathetic existence in hopes of finding something that made the endless state of ephemeral amaranthine. He wanted to find something that would make _him_ amaranthine.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

White ash against an obsidian canvas, the smoky tendrils of nicotine, tar and carbon monoxide rose in a fragile dance before him only to dissipate as they reached higher, mocking him, proving that amaranthine itself was evanescent.


	3. The Colours Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there are rainbows inside us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i guess i'm challenging myself to write a drabble each day? anyone have specific prompts? lowercase intended. cheers.

there are rainbows inside us. trapped, coursing, simmering under the skin. sometimes they mix with other people’s rainbows and the colours change. for better or worse. brighter or darker. or an infinite grey. some make us glow under our skin, turn us phosphorescent. some are born deficient of pigment and they leech off of others, draining them.

baekhyun has a galaxy of colours under his skin, chanyeol thinks. he is the super nova of rainbows. it is like the kaleidoscope under his skin is trying to escape and it shines through, luminous, iridescent. chanyeol wants to be the one who makes baekhyun even more radiant. but when baekhyun is wrapped around the arms of another like that, grinning as though there is a divine beacon inside of him, chanyeol thinks he indeed is not the right assortment of colours. how can baekhyun shine blindingly like that when chanyeol is not the source of his light?

but how is baekhyun to know that chanyeol is the one who can merge perfectly with his rainbow, every particle of colour in their veins fusing and exploding like sunburst and make baekhyun glow like he is the source of all light? how is baekhyun to know that chanyeol is the expanse of darkness that will highlight and augment his nova? how is baekhyun to know that when we are all opaque?


	5. In The Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe tonight Chanyeol will tell Baekhyun where he has been instead of walking past him.

the darkness comforts baekhyun as he sits in it and waits, the sigh heaving from his lips every few moments, a broken soundtrack that is on loop; baekhyun sighs, the darkness replies, he sighs, the silence replies. he feels as though if he strains to his level best, he may hear his heart thudding dismally, a barely discernible doomed drum beat in a jungle, thud, thud, thud, drumming away in hope, in earnest yearning.

in the blinding darkness, he can almost imagine chanyeol’s figure before him. too dim to see clearly but comforting and real, warm and tangible. the darkness is baekhyun’s ally. in it he does not have to see chanyeol’s face clearly. he can imagine the picture he has framed in his mind instead. in the darkness he does not have to peer into eyes that no longer hold love for him. in the darkness, he can lie to himself. in the darkness, he can play pretend and conjure the scenes he wants to play out.

there is some rustling and shuffling from somewhere within the dorm. baekhyun becomes a statue. the breath is suspended in his trachea.

_maybe_ , baekhyun tells himself, _it is because it is too dark and i am lying so still that chanyeol did not see me. perhaps that’s why he passed me by_.

but baekhyun smells the whiff of perfume that is neither his nor chanyeol’s as the taller one walks past where he is sitting. feminine perfume. and baekhyun sees chanyeol pause in the doorway, he sees the clenched fists and he sees chanyeol shaking his head. he sees the taller one keep walking.

baekhyun melds back into the darkness, furled into himself as his tears comfort his cheeks.


End file.
